


Phoenix

by magnuspr1m3



Series: Some Minds 'verse [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 19:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnuspr1m3/pseuds/magnuspr1m3
Summary: Hundreds of vorns ago, a small orange and red sparkling had been pulled from a fire. How he had wound up in the fire, no one knew. Not that the tragic backstory ever stopped Hot Rod. He had big plans for his future. He was going to be the fastest Cybertronian alive.A mech from Velocitron and then a civil war just had to ruin all of that for him.
Relationships: Blurr & Hot Rod (Transformers), Hot Rod & Kup (Transformers)
Series: Some Minds 'verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669666
Kudos: 3





	Phoenix

Maccadam's Old Oil House had been a hotspot before the war broke out. Hot Rod used to go there after every race, just to relax and get a nice drink of high grade. It was where he met Kup, and later Arcee. The two were the only real fixtures in his chaotic life; Pit, Kup was the creator he had never known. They had brought a sense of stability to his life he had not thought he lacked when growing up in an – albeit fairly nice – orphanage.

And then the war broke out.

Kup enlisting was absolutely no surprise. Hot Rod imagined the Autobots had practically begged the old Commander to come back out of retirement. Arcee was the surprise, though. The spitfire of a femme had completely thrown Hot Rod for a loop when she asked him to join her. “I can't just sit aside and let them tear apart our home, Hot Rod. I don't know how you can.” She said it with a scowl on her face, all of the defiance he knew the femme had evident in her expression. “Never took you for a coward.”

That was a few decaorns ago. Now, more and more mechs were either enlisting or just vanishing. The stands at the race track were getting emptier with each passing orn. Maccadam’s was slowly as well. The only mechs still lingering were fellow racers and a few unsavory characters who had not been recruited by the ‘Cons just yet. Lost mechs, essentially. Just like himself, with the few mechs and femmes he trusted gone.

His first few vorns of memories were heavily corrupted; side effect of being trapped in a fire and nearly melted down, supposedly. No solid memory of his creators, aside from a soft voice and an orange paint scheme. He had not even known his designation when the medics had brought him back online. Someone had somehow thought it would be cute or ironic or _something_ to call him ‘Hot Rod’, and it had stuck. He was not sure if the designation had turned out being fitting for the same reason it seemed to be when he was a sparkling, but it was all the same. He was the fastest racer on Cybertron, deserving of a name like Hot Rod.

Well, he had been before Blurr came along.

Now, that mech had a fitting name. Everything he did, he did with the same manic speed he raced with. It was like the mech was being fast forwarded somehow. He was a complete mystery to Hot Rod, but according to his sources, Blurr was not a Cybertronian. He was from Velocitron, a colony planet off in some other quadrant of the galaxy that specialized in being _fast_. So, he was _technically_ still the fastest Cybertronian racer.

“How’s it goin’, Hot Rod?” The other racer asked, coming to sit next to him at the bar. Hot Rod was amazed to be able to understand him; when he first showed up just over a vorn ago, the mech spoke too fast to comprehend. He had slowed down quite a bit since then because Hot Rod would grab him by his shoulders and just force him to slow down.

The red mech held up his drink, “About as good as it can be. Mechs are sayin’ they’re going to shut down the races soon. Martial law and all that nonsense, too.” Which would leave him entirely jobless, same for Blurr. “I don’t know what I’ll do then. I can’t possibly _do_ anything else. I was made to race, same as you.”

Blurr smirked some, “Not really the same as me, but you can think that, if you want. If it softens the sting of losing all the time.”

Blurr laughed loudly as Hot Rod stood up suddenly, giving him an extremely offended look. “Oh, I’m sorry my planet focuses on more than racing, you overgrown sp-” The force of an explosion was flinging them both back, rubble coming down around them. Hot Rod could do nothing as he saw flames start to move in, to swallow them all whole. _Ohnonononononononon-_

_“Carrier? C-carrier? Where- where are you?”_ _All he could see were flames everywhere. His little body could barely toddle around in it, stumbling and tripping around on rubble. “C-carrier!” There had been a loud noise, and then flames and rocks everywhere. He needed to find Carrier. Sire said that, if there is ever trouble, find Carrier. Carrier would keep him safe. But where was Carrier?_

_A loud whine came from some of the wreckage nearby, pulling him to it. “Carrier?” He whispered, little spark hammering loudly as he climbed the rocks. They were covered in blue and the fire was pressing in and raging higher and-_

Hot Rod came back to himself screaming. Hands were on him, pulling him up before his optics could completely adjust. His vision was filled with all sorts of warnings and errors he had to push aside just so he could try and get his bearings. “Blasted youngling, now is _not_ the time for this slag,” The mech hauling him up grumbled, the voice very familiar. It took his processor another moment to catch up before he knew why.

“ _Kup?_ What- what are you doing here?” Hot Rod asked, finally getting his feet under himself and taking a quick step away from the older mech. He looked around as best he could through the smoke and dust, optics thankfully falling on Blurr off to the side. The other was peeking around the remains of one of the walls of Maccadams’, a blaster in hand. “Where the Pit did you get that?”

“Same place you just did.” Kup said gruffly, pressing another one into Hot Rod’s hands. “Welcome to the Autobots, kid. Hope you know how that thing works, cause we’re gonna need you to use it. ‘Cons are crawlin’ all over the place.” The mech was moving back to Blurr’s side, chattering with the other mech softly about strategies and slipping away. As if this was an everyday occurrence. As if it were normal. How could Kup just expect Hot Rod to take this blaster and fall in line like a soldier as if it were _in his coding_? He was scared to death, still shaken up by the flames around them and the force of the explosion throwing him back. And now he was supposed to just run out there into an active battlefield?

It was too much to process.

A hand brushing against one his arms startled him from his thoughts, looking up to see Blurr staring at him. “Ya in there, Hot Rod? We need to move. Time to ooze confidence again, okay?”

“This isn’t a race.”

A shrug. “Never stopped you before. I’ve seen you waltz in places you definitely didn’t belong before as if you owned the place. It’s similar. The Hot Rod I know would totally rock this.”

Hot Rod’s brow plates furrowed inward at that. “This is a battlefield, that just happened around us.”

Blurr chuckled some, cocky smirk on his faceplate. “You saying this isn’t somewhere you definitely don’t belong?”

And as much as Hot Rod still wanted to curl in on himself and hide, the other had a point. Neither of them belonged on a battlefield, but there was no other choice now. To get through this alive, he was going to have to slap on that same stupid bravado and confidence he always did and follow Kup out there to safety. He would _not_ wait for Decepticons to come get him. He would not die, or worse, be taken prisoner. That scared little sparkling had made it out alive by some sheer stroke of luck. Perhaps, he could do it again. Pulling in a deep intake, Hot Rod steeled himself. Flicking the safety off his blaster, he nodded to Blurr and then Kup. “Let’s get out of here, I guess.”

Kup grinned at him around his cy-gar, “Glad you finally decided you’d be joining us, because we’ve gotta act fast. Seekers are gonna make one more pass over before their foot soldiers come through. We’ve got a rendezvous point set up near the outskirts of the city where we are meeting up with the others.” Kup held out a chip, a holographic map appearing before them. “We’ve got a lotta ground to cover.” He said, pointing to the rendezvous location across the city, just passed the race track.

“Could probably get there blindfolded if I needed to,” Hot Rod muttered, shaking his head. Not with Seekers and ‘Cons prowling about, though. “What’s our plan, old mech? You’ve always got something.”

Kup scowled some, looking out into the rubble strewn street before turning his optics skyward. “Haul aft and get to the rendezvous point, mechling. That is about it. Stick close to me, and don’t be afraid to shoot any ‘Cons. And if I tell ya to run, you run, got it?”

“Yup yup yup!” Blurr answered quickly, already moving out into the street in his typical erratic fashion. Watching the mech move had always been slightly nauseating, but Hot Rod could not deny the benefit of being able to move quickly enough from spot to spot to be a literal _blur_ as he and Kup went after the Velocitronian.

Actual fighting was a lot scarier than the few bar fights Hot Rod had been in. Those seemed more like play wrestling than fights now; never had he been fired at from so many different angles. The Decepticons were everywhere, and Hot Rod was fairly sure what was mostly saving them was how absolutely destroyed the city was. The fire kept the Cons at a distance, and the rubble gave decent enough cover. It allowed them to make it fairly close to the city’s edge without having to do much hand-to-hand combat, although Hot Rod found that much easier to handle. He knew how to throw a punch and take one. Shooting and actually hitting his target was requiring some on the fly adjustments.

They were making decent progress when he heard what almost sounded like thunder from overhead. “Seekers!” Kup cried, flinging himself to cover just as the bombs hit. Hot Rod was flung back from him, back crashing into the remains of a building. He watched the building across the way collapse on top of Kup, sparkrate rising in panic. His audio receptors rang as he forced himself up, moving to help the mech and ignoring his HUD’s many warnings. He had to help him. He would not lose Kup. He couldn’t. Not after-

_“Rodimus!” Voices were yelling for him, but he could not tell who they were or where they were. He continued to toddle through the rubble, flinching at the crackle of flames around him. “Rodimus!”_

_“C-carrier?” He called back, stumbling and falling again. “Carrier!”_

“Hot Rod!” Blurr gripped his shoulders tightly and shook him. “C’mon! Get up! K-Kup- I-I got him out but he isn’t doing good, and fire is closing in fast. He’s bleeding all over and- and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do!”

A quick dismissing of many injury reports from his HUD and he could confirm all of that. They had to act fast. Kup was in stasis, and they were absolutely surrounded by both Decepticons and the spreading flames. Hot Rod looked out from behind their hideout in the direction of their rendezvous point, trying to spot anything through the flames. They were running out of time. “Get Kup out of here.” He said quickly to the blue mech. “You're fast, faster than me, especially when not in alt mode. We know that. Can you go close to your top speed with someone else? I can provide cover fire.” Hot Rod held Kup's blaster up as well as his own.

Blurr shook his head but was moving to haul Kup up anyway. “I can’t go _that_ fast, but plenty fast to get us out of here. I’ll come back for you.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll get out on my own, just run until you can get Kup to the Autobots.” Blurr looked ready to protest but Hot Rod was already jumping out of cover and firing at the approaching ‘cons. Hot Rod gave the other speedster one last look when he could spare a klik to stop firing. “ _Run!_ ”

The telltale _woosh_ of Blurr taking off meant that Hot Rod could focus fully on _not getting shot_ as he distracted the Cons. There were fewer around here, thankfully, but he was still outnumbered and almost completely surrounded. One klik of distraction could mean-

Pain shot up from his abdomen as he was forced backwards from a shot. His feet could not stay under him, resulting in him falling flat on his aft and sending a sharp twinge of pain from something catching in his left hip joint. A cry slipped passed his lips before he could stop it, dropping one of the blasters on reflex and clutching at his side. He hissed at the touch and pulled his hand up to see bright blue energon staining it. “ _Frag_.” He had been _shot_. He slammed his free fist into the ground, cursing his luck. There was nowhere to go, at least not with a hip injury and a hole in his side. _Think, Hot Rod, think!_

His optics looked around him, until he noticed the unstable wall of a nearby building directly behind some of the approaching Cons. It would have to do. He staggered to a stand and took aim with his free hand, other applying pressure to his side. Before he could second guess himself, he shot at one of the obvious weaker points and turned to run as it came crumbling down. There was no time to look back, not when he could barely run at half his usual speed without wanting to cry out in agony. If he wanted to live, he had to move and just hope it was enough to keep the Cons off his tail.

“Not now. Y-you can't die now.” Hot Rod muttered to himself, arm above his optics as if to shield his vision from the oppressive light of the flames. “Not. Now.” His other hand pressed to the oozing hole in his side as he limped on. Blurr went this way. He would have to find safety eventually. They had not been far when the seekers attacked. Hot Rod was going to make it.

He had to.

_“Rodimus!_ ”

He shook his helm roughly as he continued to stumble forwards. There was no time to consider the implications of the memory loop. No time to wonder about that name, or where he had come from.

_“Rodimus! Where are you?!”_

_There_. An area where the flames were weaker lay up ahead. He was going to make it. An excited laugh bubbled up from him, and he pressed forward with renewed determination. _I am going to live._ No Cons and their stupid bombings could kill him. Not today, and hopefully not ever.

He trudged out of the flames, feeling the effects of the exposure to the heat on top of all his injuries hit him full force. The gust of wind from Blurr arriving at his side nearly knocked him down as his systems desperately tried to cool down. The mech pulling his arm over a shoulder is really the only thing saving him from just collapsing. “You did it.” It was the slowest Hot Rod had ever heard the other speak. “We all made it.”

Hot Rod was not concerned with that, though. “Kup. Is he-"

“Kup will be fine.”

Both snapped their heads up, nearly falling together at the sight of _Optimus Prime_ approaching them. A medic was at his side, swatting the Prime out of the way to get to Hot Rod. Neither of them could believe what they were seeing. Or hearing. It quickly became obvious that their medic was _Ratchet._ Had the main Autobot contingency come to the rescue? To Maccadams?

“Thanks to your efforts, he was delivered to a medic quickly and is being seen to. As are all of the others in the area.” Listening to Prime was a bizarre experience. How did one mech sound so… noble? Heroic? Hot Rod could not place it, and by the look on his faceplate, it appeared Blurr could not either. “You both acted very bravely. Thank you.”

“Did the Prime just thank us?” Hot Rod whispered, earning a snort from the medic as he scanned him.

Ratchet motioned for him to sit, shooing Blurr away from right next to him. “He still hasn’t come to terms with being the Prime, so soak them up before his head gets too big.” The medic ignored the pointed frown from Optimus, getting a soft chuckle from Blurr. “Lucky for you his posse isn't around. They'd definitely make fun of your paint job.”

_Paint job?_ Hot Rod looks down at himself and scowls. Of course, the flames had licked away most of his paint. All that remained were a few splotches of his old coloring, resembling flames on his chest plate. _Of course_. It was ironic that he just marched through the lower parts of Iacon, through raging flames and by dozens of Decepticons, and what really remained of his paint job looked like silly little flames. From the fire, he came. He would not return to it. Not this orn.

Hot Rod smiled at the medic now, “Y’know what, I kinda like it. Think I’ll keep it with my repaint.”


End file.
